User blog:Eureka Enderborn/The Enderborn Canon: Alternate timeline!
This is basically a short story of an alternate timeline where the Endermen and their actions are not simply morally questionable. They are, instead, downright cruel and evil. So, without further ado... In a chamber, high above a fortress no outsider had lived to tell about, the mechanical hybrid sat brooding. His true name had not been spoken in a millennia, and the few who knew it didn't dare speak it. Now, he was usually known as the Warlord. In the corridors beyond his chamber, servants stalked the halls as silently as possible, so as not to wake their master's meditation. Even the warriors training in the fortress below did so in utter silence. The last Enderman to shatter the silence with a yell was moved to a new career as a practice dummy. All who had seen the Warlord on this day knew it to be a particularly bad time to approach him. It was no secret why. Two of his operatives stationed on a nearby world had not reported back in a few weeks, and they were presumed dead. Naturally, no tears would be shed for them. They weren't even very good operatives. No, what the Warlord found unacceptable was that anyone would dare cross the Shadow Wardens. He tapped a crystal by his throne. Another Enderman came scurrying over, this one performing the duty of scribe. It was the scribe's job to record the wisdom of the Warlord for the ages, as well as the victories of the Shadow Wardens. "I have pondered." The Warlord began, "And I have decided. The deaths of two Shadow Wardens cannot go unpunished. Those responsible must be struck down, as an example to others who would dare defy th might of the Imperium." "Have you discovered who these offenders are?" The scribe asked, diligently copying every word his master spoke. "There is only one group of beings foolish enough to do such a thing: The Resistance. I can't yet know which resistance specifically, but I will find out, and make them suffer. Troy and I will leave ourselves to see to this." "You will go? Not merely send more Shadow Wardens?" "Whoever committed this act has clearly lost their fear of the Imperium. Respect is born from fear. Obedience, as well. And so fear must be restored in the hearts of those who oppose me." "Yes, of course." The scribe said. "After all, what being could hope to oppose you? Your power is second only to the great Herobrine himself!" The moment he had spoken, the scribe recognized his error. He started to back out of the room, as the Warlord's mismatched eyes slowly turned toward him. "Second to?" Within an instant, he had sprung from his throne and lifted the scribe by the throat. "Understand this, scribe. I am second to no one. Least of all that arrogant scheming whisp of darkness." Had the scribe been able to breathe, he would have apologized profusely. Fortunately, the Warlord decided he wasn't worth killing, and instead dropped him. As he began walking out of the chamber, he said "Find Troy. Tell him we leave at once." The Warlord then stalked out. He went down a spiral staircase to the training grounds. No one was scheduled to be using it, but from the sounds of battle it was clear that someone was. He had no doubt that said someone was just the person he was looking for. He stopped in the doorway. Rhea was there, just as he had expected, moving about with the grace of a panther. "I thought you prefer live targets." The Warlord said as she wedged her Endsteel dagger into a wooden figure. "I do." She responded, as she somersaulted through the air. "They're stacked by the door." She knocked the head off of a mannequin in midair. "Someone may want to do something before they start to smell." She added as she landed. "You're back early. Unable to carry out the mission?" Rhea laughed sharply. "You know better than that." She lept into the rafters, executing a complex series of gymnastic tricks, then dismounting and landing right in front of her master. The Warlord couldn't help but be impressed, especially with her recently added mechanical arm slowing her down. "Reporting." She said, making no effort to hide the sarcasm. "The soldiers?" "Dead." "The villagers?" "Fled." "Their artifacts?" "In the vault." "All of them?" The Warlord asked pointedly. Rhea glanced to her recently acquired mechanical arm, then back at her leader. "All of it. I remember my lessons well, Warlord, especially the painful ones." "I am leaving the island for a short while. You will oversee things in my absence." "Why me?" Rhea asked. "Because the other Shadow Wardens fear you. And you fear me." "Do I?" She hurled her deep purple dagger directly at him. Erupting into a blur of motion, he grabbed one of his own and hurled it, knocking hers out of the air. "If you are wise, yes you are." "Where are you going?" "Elsewhere." "When will you be back?" "At a later point in time. Meanwhile, see that any missions from other generals are carried out, unless they effect my own plans. Furthermore, Philip returned with only two pieces of equipment rather than three. Have the usual places searched, then discipline him." "What curriculum?" Rhea asked, clearly looking forward to the confrontation. "I want him to be able to walk on his own, but unable to breathe without pain for, oh, six weeks." The Warlord responded. "Hands?" "Intact. We have removed enough hands this solar cycle. Tell me, Rhea, if I turned and walked away, would I soon find a dagger in my back?" "Of course not." "Then before..." "That was... play." Rhea said with a smile. "I know you. You have eyes everywhere, guardians in the shadows, ready to cut anyone down at a minute's notice. So no. The day I kill you, Warlord, I want you to see it coming." Eureka turned and walked away, confident he was leaving the fortress in very capable hands. Category:Blog posts